Favourite Disease
by devirnis
Summary: One of the guys is running out of time, thanks to a burned mobster and a sinister poison. But before Mikey can go after the antidote, he has to save his brothers, each in a life-threatening situation of their own. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A little something I whipped up, from my own challenge at Stealthy Stories. Concept based on The Legend of Tarzan episode, Tarzan and the Gauntlet of Vengeance. Merry Boxing Day, everyone!

* * *

**1.**

It was cold, and dark. His head was swimming. Slowly, his senses returned, and he could feel the aching in his muscles. His head sagged forward, resting on his chest. He couldn't find the energy to open his eyes.

He got his bearings. He was seated, and probably had been for a while, judging by the stiffness in his muscles. His hands were bound behind him, and to whatever type of chair he was sitting in. Someone started to speak, and his eyelids fluttered as he fought to open them. It was no use, though. He fell back into darkness.

* * *

_Raph high-fived him. "Nice shot, bro. He didn't see it coming."_

_Mikey smirked. "I'm just that talented." _

_He and his brothers stood, surveying the chaos below. A patrol of Foot ninja, that had been attempting to spring an ambush, lay incapacitated on the New York City sidewalk. They must have been new recruits, or they wouldn't have been spotted tailing their prey. He hadn't even broken a sweat taking them down._

_His smug victory smile faded when Leo held up a hand. "Hang on, guys. I think we're still being—"_

_Something pricked his shoulder. _

* * *

Pain exploded across his face. He jolted into consciousness, head snapping up. The sudden burst of confusion and adrenaline gave him the strength to open his eyes. A second after he did, he wished he hadn't. He wished he were unconscious again. Then he wouldn't know that he was in some sketchy warehouse. He wouldn't see the two shady guys dressed in tuxedos standing in front of him, leering at him.

"He's awake," one of the goons said.

He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't resist. "I guess you're the observant one."

The guy glanced sideways at him. "Get the boss."

The second thug disappeared into the shadows, leaving Mikey all alone with the genius detective. He was tempted again to make a smart-ass comment, but before he had the chance, his guard stepped towards him. He took out a pistol, and slammed it into Mikey's cheek.

"One more word outta you, and I break you're freakin' jaw."

Again, there was that twinge inside him, that urge to say something funny. He really had to work on that. Raph was always smacking him on the head. He wondered if he had brain damage.

_Wait a second …_

His brothers. Where were they? They had all been together last night, so where were they now?

* * *

_He stared down at his arm. A needle was protruding out of his shoulder. Liquid of some sort was forced into his muscle. Almost instantly, he started to feel woozy. His knees buckled, and his legs began to shake._

"_Mikey!"_

_Donny took a step towards him, and suddenly there was a needle in his arm. The same thing happened to his other brothers. Raph whipped out his sais, spinning around. Leo's katana were out a second later. It was useless, though._

_Mikey's legs gave out, and he fell to the ground. Don bent down to help him, but stumbled forward, and ended up on his stomach. Raph was blinking furiously, trying to stay awake._

_He couldn't see. He couldn't feel. And then everything just fell away._

* * *

Well, that didn't bode well at all. He glanced around the room, trying to disguise it as stretching his neck. Unfortunately, Captain Observant wasn't fooled. His smirk widened.

"Looking for your friends, weirdo?"

Somehow, that didn't warrant a response. Besides, he didn't really feel like getting pistol-whipped again. Mikey simply glared at him.

"They ain't here." Apparently, Sherlock liked the sound of his own voice. "But don't worry. Once the boss gets here, he'll explain everything."

Nope, he couldn't hold back. "I can hardly wait."

The goon stepped forward, raising his gun again. Before he could strike, the second thug reappeared. He was followed by a man in the biggest white tux Mikey had ever seen. Perfect, the Big Boss. He was so huge that he could probably give Hun a run for his money.

The boss folded his arms across his massive chest. "Glad you could join us."

Mikey twisted his wrists, testing the rope he was bound with. "Feeling isn't mutual. Sorry."

His captor chuckled. "I'd keep a lip on that mouth of yours. Otherwise your buddies might pay the price."

That got his attention. So, he wasn't the only one in hot water. "Okay. Where are my brothers?"

"Brothers?" Big Boss smiled. "Ah, so they're your family. Well isn't that just peachy. So you're gonna want to listen _real_ carefully then." He turned to one of his henchmen. "Barone, get the photos."

The goon who had struck him disappeared. The boss and his remaining underling kept sneering at him, and it was starting to freak him out. He knew something was wrong, that much was obvious. His brothers were probably in similar situations, scattered across the city. Or maybe they were just in different rooms. Either way, he had a sinking feeling that something seriously bad was going to happen. He kept his mouth shut, biting back yet another snide comment. If his brothers were in danger, that was one reason not to tick off the guy who had them.

The thug reappeared a few moments later, holding a stack of pictures in his hand. He seemed to have a spring in his step, which only added to Mikey's feeling of dread. This was bad. Really, _really_ bad.

"Why don't you take a look at these?" Big Boss nodded to his henchman, who stepped forward.

"Be glad to." Mikey smiled sweetly. "Why don't you untie me so I can see?"

"Nice try, turtle. Barone, show him the photos."

Barone sneered down at Mikey, and selected one picture from the pile. He held it up in front of Mikey's face. Immediately, the turtle's stomach dropped. It was a Polaroid—and frankly, he was surprised that these cameras even existed. But his split-second of astonishment was quickly replaced by panic. It was a photo of Donny, suspended by a rope that was far too frayed for Mikey's comfort. His brother was unconscious, hanging over the edge of a building. And something told Mikey that it was probably a long way down.

"You see that rope there?" The boss' meaty finger left a smudged print on the Polaroid. "That rope ain't gonna last for very long. And when it breaks …" He shrugged. "Well, I don't think this freak is gonna survive a fall like that. Next picture."

This time, he was prepared. He was going to control his facial expression. _Don't let them see fear. It'll just get them off._ However, he wasn't ready for the next one. It was Leo, unconscious like Donny, tied with his hands above his head to a pier.

"Tide's coming in soon." Big Boss looked sympathetic. "Poor freak. That anaesthetic ain't gonna wear off before that water goes over his head. Hope he can breathe underwater."

The last picture was Raph, who was, predictably, out cold. He was in a pit, suspended by a series of ropes attached to something out of frame. His feet were barely touching the ground—couldn't be good for his shoulders. Was that the dangerous situation? Dislocated shoulders? Well, Mikey knew who he was getting last.

"What this lovely photo doesn't show—" The boss rested his arm on Mikey's shoulder—"is the cement truck, sitting right next to that little hole. It's gonna start pouring in concrete. Ah well, at least it'll save you the trouble of digging a grave."

Mikey twisted his wrists angrily, hearing the rope stretch under the strain. But he was still a little groggy; his muscles were still numbed, not quite fully functional. The Big Boss reached inside his breast pocket, and pulled out a folded up paper. He spread it out, and shoved it into Mikey's face. It was a map of the city. On it, four red stickers served as markers. Mikey could guess what three of them were, but as for the fourth?

"Fourth one where we are?" he asked curtly. He wanted to get out and start running. He had no idea where he was; a moment's delay could cost his brothers their lives.

"No." The boss casually slipped his hand inside his pocket. "The fourth marker … is for this."

Before Mikey could even blink, Big Boss whipped out a syringe and plunged it into his shoulder. He tried to struggle, hoping to rip the needle out before whatever was inside it escaped into his body. It was no use, though. The mob boss held it steady, making sure all the contents were released.

"Courtesy of a mutual friend, Dr. Stockman." The boss smiled. "It's a poison he concocted, just for you. Aren't you lucky? You've got two hours, tops, before you drop dead on the street. The fourth marker—" He jabbed the one furthest away from the other three—"is the antidote. Now, you can either save your freaky family, or yourself. It's rather doubtful that you can do both."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I know this is stupidly short - I intended to make it longer, but I'm bogged down with school work again. Le sigh. So this is actually the first half of the second chapter, but I figured I should post _something_. Forgive me ^^;

* * *

**2.**

He'd never run so fast in his entire life.

How many times had he thought that? Every time he was tearing through the midnight streets, he seemed to be going faster than before. But right now, it was hard to imagine a time when he would ever need to go faster. All three of his brothers were running out of time. _He_ was running out of time.

Why was it that they _always_ ended up in these situations? One would think that giant mutant humanoid turtles, who tried to have as little contact with people as possible, would lead pretty boring lives. But no. They'd been to different dimensions, different galaxies, different time periods; attacked by the government, mad scientists, ninjas, monsters, aliens … It was a wonder they ever had any downtime at all.

He chuckled darkly, and then focused his thoughts. Better to concentrate on the task at hand. He would get Donny first, then Raph, and finally Leo. It made him sick to his stomach to have to prioritize his brothers—like one of them could ever _be_ more important than another—but it was necessary. Don's situation was the most unpredictable. Once the rope snapped, it was all over, and he didn't know how long he had. So that justified going after his geeky brother first.

Raph second. Why Raph? Because Mikey couldn't dive into concrete to save him. He would have time, time before the wet cement buried his brother in the pit. He could haul Raph out, wash off the concrete.

That left Leo last. Mikey allowed himself a small smile. His older brother would want that, to be last. The rest of the family had to be rescued first. But that didn't make the decision to leave Leo's life on the line the longest any less painful. If he had read the map right, it would also leave him the farthest away from the antidote.

Just before the Big Boss had cut him loose, he'd sneered down at him.

"_Your family, or your life. Tough choice."_

"_No choice."_

No choice, indeed. Like any lowlife could understand. Without his brothers, _his_ life didn't mean anything. They were four or they were nothing.

_Don't think, just run._

So he did. He moved like a ghost over the rooftops, almost invisible in the moonlight. His heart was pounding in his ears. What was wrong with him? He hadn't been running that long, so why was he already struggling for breath? It couldn't be the poison already. It must be his mind. He knew he was poisoned—_dying_—so his body was mimicking the symptoms early.

Or that's what he hoped, anyway.

_I'm coming, Donny. I'll be there soon._

He just had to control his breathing. If he was right, the building Don was on would come into sight soon. As he sped past, he heard the familiar drawl of a late night talk show host, coming from an open window. It was sometime around midnight. Had he really been running for half an hour? It shouldn't be taking him this long. Something was wrong. He wasn't just imagining things.

_Doesn't matter. I can still make it. I can save them._

He pushed his body on. He could see it now, the building. Hopefully he wasn't too late. As he peered forward, searching desperately for any sign of his brother, he stumbled. It wasn't much; he barely slowed down. But his ankle rolled unexpectedly, unexplainably, and his stomach dropped. He had to hurry.

Two agonizingly long minutes later, he made it to the rooftop of his destination. Almost instantly, he saw Donny, dangling over the fatal drop, suspended by a crude crane of sorts. As he neared his brother, he could hear the strain of the rope holding Don up. Mikey sprinted forward, ignoring the slightly twinge of pain in his ankle. He reached his brother just as the rope holding him up snapped.

"_Donny!_"

His arms shot forward, wrapping around his brother's torso. He skidded forward a few inches, before he managed to lean backwards. He managed to force himself backwards, and landed flat on his ass, Don's dead weight crushing his legs. Despite the fact that he was in a hurry, Mikey paused for a few deep breaths, mostly to calm himself down. He couldn't recall a time when he had ever cut it so close before.

Too close. That stumble had almost cost him _everything_.

Raph and Leo wouldn't have blamed him—at least, not openly. Leo would pat him on the shoulder, tell him that it wasn't his fault. Raph would brood, act more abrasive than normal, maybe ignore him for a few weeks. But deep down, despite themselves, they would know it was his fault. He hadn't moved fast enough.

They had almost become three.

Mikey gently lifted his unconscious brother off his legs, and laid him on the rooftop. "Don." He shook him roughly, hoping that somehow he would manage to break through the drug-induced sleep. After about thirty seconds of shaking him, Mikey knew he couldn't waste any more time waiting for his brother to come around. He would have appreciated the extra help, though.

"Guess it's a one-turtle show," he grumbled, taking off into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Another short update, but I figured I should get something up here before I get bogged down with my next paper. It's on Nietzsche's _On The Genealogy of Morality_ so ... yeah.

My brain may explode. Have fun! Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

* * *

**3.**

Mikey's stomach twisted into a knot of guilt and worry as he wondered, _once again_, if that really was the best place to stash his unconscious brother. It wasn't like he really had the time to find a better hiding place, or drag Don back to the lair. So the shadows of the rooftop would have to do for the time being. He'd get back there after this crazy night was over, apologize, and then bug his brother to watch some silly anime with him.

Not like he could really double back and find a better place. He was halfway to Raph now, and moving painfully slow. Sure, he was still making decent time—for a normal person. For a trained ninja, in top physical health, he was barely jogging. But his body just wouldn't go any faster.

His heart rate was abnormally relaxed, too. Sure, he could still hear it pounding in his ears as he sped—as best he could—across the rooftops, but it was still slower than it should be. His breathing was slowing down too.

_Not good. So not good._

He'd actually managed to glean something from Don's rant about the circulatory system. If his heart was slow, it meant blood wasn't getting where it was supposed to fast enough. Which meant that his cells couldn't get enough oxygen to do their cell thing. Which meant that his body was essentially running out of fuel. That he was more or less starving his muscles and brain and heart. Once he really started running on empty, his body would just shut down.

_Nope. Gotta get to Raph and Leo before that._

He sucked in a deep breath as he made a leap from one building to another. His breathing rate was slowing down too, which only added to his oxygen problem. He should be taking rapid breaths, taking in as much air as possible. But somehow he just _couldn't_. Like his body was rallying against him, trying to make him fail. Hell if he was going to be beaten by some idiot mobster and some stupid poison. Leo had been poisoned before, and he pulled through okay.

But Leo had Usagi and his weird, mystical rabbit-samurai thing to help him out. _What have I got? Me. Great, I'm doomed._

No time to think like that. He zipped down a fire escape, and headed off towards a construction area. Raph was a few short minutes away from being rescued, and then it would be Leo's turn. And then Mikey could try and save his own butt. The casualness with which he thought that statement surprised him. And as he really thought about it, he realized that he wasn't all that worried about his own life.

If he saved all his brothers, but couldn't save himself, it was still mission accomplished. He'd rather end on a high note, as a tragic hero, than abandon his brothers and get the antidote for himself. Was it really that easy a choice? Yes, it was. Which meant that the mob boss' hope for theatrics and mental anguish was all in vain. No choice indeed.

He rounded the corner, and nearly toppled into the enormous pit that he was looking for. Thankfully, he managed to fall backwards just in time, before his feet skidded over the edge. Broken legs would make it slightly challenging to get out of that hole. He pushed himself upright—and grimaced at the amount of effort it took. Glancing down into the hollow, he saw Raph. His stomach did flips as he noticed the concrete had already started to fill the hole.

_Damn. Too slow, Mikey. It's only up to his knees; I should still be able to pull him out._

He hurried over to the edge that Raph was nearest, and examined the device suspending him. It was another crude crane, quickly throne together, and easy enough to figure out. Get the rope loose, and haul his brother out of his would-be grave. Mikey did just that, loosing the rope from the rickety wooden structure, and then began to pull on it. Instead of dislodging Raph from the cement, however, Mikey's feet slipped forward.

_What?_

He pulled again, only to encounter the same result. He slid forward, towards the hole, instead of pulling his brother out of it. His muscles couldn't be that weak already, could they? As he tried for a third time, he realized that they were. He had less time than he thought.

_Okay, so my arms aren't strong enough to get him out. Maybe my whole body will be enough._

As quickly as he could, Mikey wrapped the end of the rope around his torso, and tied it tightly. He yanked the rope a few times, making sure his knot was snug enough, and then charged forward. He made a couple feet of progress before Raph's weight started to drag him backwards.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled aloud in frustration. "Bro, you gotta lay off the beer. Too many calories!"

He dropped to his knees, panting. This shouldn't be taking this much of a toll on him. By all rights, he should all ready be on his way to Leo. He'd be damned if he was going to give in this easily.

_Come on, you lazy ass. Move it!_

Mikey forced his body forward, sucking in painfully slow breaths as the light activity seemed to completely strip him. He made progress—slow, but sure progress, until he finally felt the line go slack as Raph's comatose form was dragged fully out of the pit. Mikey wanted to collapse, give his body time to rest and do what little recuperating it could, but he knew that right now, every second counted. He had to get to Leo. Even if he couldn't get to the antidote, he _had to get to Leo._

He hauled his weakening body over to Raph, and brushed off the wet cement that stuck to his legs. The last thing he needed was for it to dry to his brother's skin. He couldn't even begin to think how Don would get it off.

_Wasted too much time, dude. Time to go._

As he took off running—more like _jogging_—he noticed that his mouth had gone dry.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

He couldn't breathe.

Well, that was a lie. He _could_ breathe, otherwise he'd be unconscious right now. Or dead. Actually, dead probably wasn't too far off at this point. But he was too close to give up now. Despite the pain slowly spreading across his chest, he stumbled on towards the pier. It was so close. Like, fifty feet away. He could make that.

_Wish Casey or April would turn on their phones. Probably on a date. That's okay, then. Not their fault. Damn, this hurts._

When had the pain even started? He couldn't remember. It had snuck up on him, pounced on him just as he was starting to believe he could do this. Now a fiery agony was burning in his lungs and heart. It wasn't the raw, dry pain of a long hard run, something that could be quenched with a few big gulps of water and rest. No, this was different. It was heavy. It was tied to his ribcage, pulling him down to the concrete. He had to fight to stay upright. He had to fight for each step.

But he _could see the water now_.

So damn close. Thirty feet felt like thirty miles. _I'm coming, Leo._ So close. Almost there. Twenty feet. When had his legs turned to steel? Come on, _move_! Ten feet. Damn, the pain was moving down his arms and up into his throat. His oesophagus had better not join the revolt and swell shut on him. That would just make his friggin' night.

_If I live through this, they owe me. Big. I want a cake. The huge ones that you can hide a stripper in. And pizza. And six or seven new video games. And unlimited TV privileges. And a massage._

He continued the list in his head as he dragged his feet along the rough, wooden docks. Splinters bit into his skin, but he ignored the feeling. The pain surging through his upper body was enough to distract him. He neared the edge of the dock, and anxiety began to creep into his gut. What if he was too late? No, he couldn't be too late; that wasn't an option. He _was_ going to save Leo.

He rolled his ankle just as he reached the end of the docks. He collapsed to his knees, wincing, but something green in his peripherals distracted him. Looking down, he was relieved to see his brother—still unconscious—bound to the pier. Leo's head, however, was limply hanging dangerously close to the water. A wave came in, and briefly submerged his brother's face. Mikey leaned forward, his fingers searching for the knot in the rope that held his brother to the dock. Then three things happened in quick succession: his heart stuttered painfully; he bent forward, clutching his chest; and he toppled into the freezing water.

For a split second, he was in shock, his oxygen-deprived brain trying to make sense of the sudden change. Instinctively, he tried to breathe, but ended up sucking in a big gulp of water. That got him moving. He floundered in the murky depths, unsure of which direction the air was. His arms flailed, and one broke the surface. He exploded out of the water a moment later, just in time for a wave to sweep him into his drugged brother. He didn't waste a second, going straight back to working on the rope that tied Leo's hands to the pier.

"This is _freezing_," he grumbled to himself. "I'm gonna make Don build us a sauna."

It was no use. His fingers were going numb—from the poison or the water, he wasn't sure—and the rope was tied too tightly for him to work with. He briefly considered going back underwater to find a sharp rock, but that would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. While blindfolded. And then he noticed that his brother still had his katana strapped to his back.

"Thank you, stupid gangsters!"

He reach up, and grasped the hilt of his brother's sword. However, as he tried to lift it out of the sheath, his arm began to quiver under the weight. _Oh, come on!_ He didn't remember Leo's swords being this heavy before. He gritted his teeth and continued to lift his brother's ten billion pound sword until gravity and the weight of his arm and the katana finally forced it out of the sheath. His arm splashed back into the water, and he nearly lost his grip on the sword, which sent his heart thudding agonizingly in panic.

_Come on. Lift it. Just once more._

He took a ragged breath, and swung the katana into the wood, severing the rope. Leo fell forward onto Mikey—something he hadn't thought through. The added weight pushed him beneath the water, and he exhaled in surprise. The cold and dark closed around him, and he _couldn't feel his brother anymore._ He opened his eyes, finding he could barely see. The water stung, but he couldn't let Leo drown.

Something brushed against his ankle, and he spotted a dark shape drifting beneath him. Instantly his arms were around it—and thank God, he felt Leo's shell under his arm—and he was swimming to the surface. As soon as his head was out of the water, he realized there was no feasible way that he could get himself, let alone _his brother_, back onto the docks in his current condition. But he couldn't just tread water until he drowned.

_Guess I'm hauling us over the rocks. That should be fun._

A few yards away was the shore, but the giant jagged rocks would prove to be a bit of an obstacle. Still, he didn't have a choice. He couldn't keep both himself and Leo afloat for much longer. He struck out for the shore, and noticed the pain was seeping into his legs. It seemed to take an eternity, but he eventually made it. He shoved Leo up onto land, wincing at the sound his shell made as it scraped against the rocks. It was considerably harder to drag himself out of the water; his heart began to beat irregularly for a few seconds, and he sat down, wrapping his arms around his shaking body until the erratic thudding stopped.

He made sure to carry Leo far enough away from the water that the incoming tide wouldn't sweep him back, but also far enough from the road that no one would notice a giant, mutant turtle.

_Better wake up soon, bro._

And now it was time to save himself. He took off once more into the night.

* * *

_How did I get up here?_

Don had opened his eyes before, and was now thoroughly confused. He was on a rooftop, with what looked like someone's laundry draped over him. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, groaning at the stiffness in his muscles. And then everything that had happened in the past few hours came flooding back.

The ambush … a vague memory of waking up somewhere dark, only to slip back into unconsciousness … a shrill shout, _"Donny!"_

Something terrible had occurred, and a twisted, heavy feeling in his heart told him it wasn't over yet.

* * *

Mikey stumbled again, falling to his knees. But he couldn't stop. He was almost there. He could _see_ it: the warehouse, where the antidote was, just one more building after this one. He forced himself back to his feet. From his position on the rooftop, he could jump across to the roof of the warehouse. Probably.

His heart thudded painfully inside his chest again. He was being dragged down, and he couldn't stop it. But he was at the edge of the roof. He could jump. He could make it.

_At least my brothers are safe._

His lungs felt like they were shrinking. It was now or never. He wasn't going to last much longer. Bracing himself, he leapt.

Sailing through the air was peaceful. The wind caressing his aching body, the feeling of weightlessness. Maybe this would be what death was like. But his thoughts ended abruptly as he slammed into the side of the warehouse. He hadn't made it flawlessly to the top; instead, his hands scrambled to find something to hold on to, something to keep him from falling.

Time slowed. He felt himself slipping. He grasped feebly at the side of the building, but he could feel his senses ebbing away. As he began to plummet, everything seemed to disappear. He was gone before he even hit the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

Raph woke to the feeling of his Shell Cell vibrating against his side. He moved, and winced. His whole body was stiff and sore. Apparently he'd been lying here for a while—wherever _here_ was. As he opened his eyes, he noticed that a blue tarpaulin was covering him. Well that was weird.

His cell buzzed angrily in his belt. Oh, right. He grabbed it and flipped it open. "Yeah?"

"_Raph!"_ It was Donny. Why did his brother sound so relieved?

"You were expecting someone else?" He threw the tarp off of him, and stood up.

"_Where are you?"_

"In a construction site," he answered, surveying his surroundings. Now how the hell did he end up here? "Where're you?"

"_A rooftop. Leo's by the pier."_

"And Mikey?" he asked absently. He had just noticed the massive hole next to him. Why had someone filled it halfway with concrete? That didn't seem logical.

"_He's not picking up."_

There was something about the tone of Don's voice that worried Raph. "Can you track him?"

"_Yeah. He's about ten minutes from you, corner of 5__th__ and Delaney. He hasn't moved in a while."_ That couldn't be good. But his brother wasn't done. _"Do you remember how you got there?"_

"No." Raph rubbed the back of his neck. "Last thing I remember, we were taking down some sloppy Foot ambush and …" His eyes widened. "Ah, shit …"

"_I take it you remember getting tranquilized?"_

"Yeah, now. Maybe Mikey's just taking a while longer to come out of it?"

"_I don't know, Raph. Something about this just feels wrong. Leo's on his way to Mikey's location, so let's figure everything out there."_

"I hear ya. Catch you there."

Raph hung up his phone and stated sprinting. As he ran, he tried to piece together what had happened tonight. They had been ambushed; he knew that much. And after taking down a sloppy ambush, too. That was just ironic. Or something. After that, all he got was a blank. Absolutely no memory. But something had to have happened in between him falling face-first, senseless, onto the rooftop, and waking up under a tarp in a construction site. If someone was going to jump them, why just scatter them about the city? No, Donny was right. Something about this felt really, really _wrong_.

He picked up his pace.

Slightly under ten minutes later, he arrived on the scene. It was a deserted warehouse district that should probably have been cleared for demolition long ago. He skulked in the shadows of one of the decrepit buildings, searching for his brothers. They were nowhere to be seen. But maybe he had arrived first.

_Doubtful. Leo can run like the frickin' wind when he puts his mind to it._

This area was so big that it would take him ages to find his brothers. Well, it was a late enough hour and the place seemed quiet enough. He could probably risk a low shout.

"Leo? Don? Mikey?"

There was a few seconds of silence before a voice answered him. "Raph! Over here!"

It was Leo, and he sounded stressed out of his mind. And if his older brother hadn't had any reservations about bellowing through the streets, then something was definitely up. Raph charged in the direction Leo's voice had come from. He rounded a corner and skittered to a stop.

His three brothers were crouched in the dim glow of a dying streetlight. Leo was standing up, pacing back and forth worriedly. Don was kneeling on the ground, examining the very _still_ form of Mikey. For one agonizing moment, Raph couldn't see if his brother was breathing or not. But as he inched forward, he saw his brother's chest rise and fall shakily through a ragged breath.

"What the hell?" was all he could manage.

"He fell." Leo's answer was curt and strained. He kept pacing.

Raph's gut twisted into a knot. "Well is he okay?"

"No," Don replied quietly, contemplatively. "This isn't just from the fall. His body shouldn't be doing this."

As if to reinforce Don's diagnosis, Mikey made an awful choking sound, and his body began to quiver. Don's hands flew off the youngest turtle, as if his touch had somehow caused this. For a second they all froze, completely lost as to what to do. And then Mikey began to foam at his mouth.

"Donny?" Leo was crouching now, looking for some way he could help.

"I don't know!" Don sounded close to panic. He began to scrutinize Mikey again. And then his eyes widened. "I think he's been poisoned."

"_What_?" Raph snarled, on his knees with his brothers.

"See here?" Don pointed to the unconscious turtle's arm. Raph leaned in, and was barely able to notice a miniscule spec, darker green than the rest of Mikey's skin. "It's an injection mark. Whoever did this poisoned him."

Leo had gone tense. "Can you—?"

"No. Not without knowing what poison it was." Don closed his eyes. "Why would he come here? Why, of all places?"

"Where was he supposed to go?" Raph snapped, unable to contain his temper. "It's not like he could just check into the ER."

"I _know_ that. Think about it. This place is completely random. It has no significance. So why come here? Why not go home? Why not go to April or Casey for help? He came here for a reason." Don's eyes flew open. He had an idea. "Leo, check inside the warehouse."

Raph was about to round on his genius brother, to ask what kind of stupid demand that was, but Leo obeyed quickly. Mikey began to shake harder. Raph bit down on his lip, both envious and infuriated that Don could stay so calm in this situation. Before he could explode with another outburst, Leo was back, holding a syringe and a piece of paper. He handed them both to Don.

"I was right." Don didn't sound pleased at all. "I think this might be the antidote."

"And how exactly do you know that?" Raph growled.

"Look." Don held the paper up. "'How does it feel to choose yourself over your friends?' Mikey saved us from something."

"That's some speculation, Don." Leo didn't sound convinced. Good. Raph certainly wasn't.

But Don was persistent. "Think about it. The note explains it. We woke up scattered around, right? Whoever did this must have poisoned Mikey, and forced him to choose who to save: himself or us. There must have been a time limit or something."

"Then why didn't he go after the antidote?"

"Would you have, Leo? He did what any of us would have done." Don grasped the syringe, and looked like he was going to inject its contents into Mikey.

"Hold on!" Leo placed his hand overtop of Don's. "We can't be sure of what's inside that. For all we know, it could just make this worst."

"We don't have a choice. We have to do this."

"Don, I don't—"

"Leo, we _don't have a choice._ I can't stop this. He's dying, and I can't save him!" Don was pleading now, desperate. "Even if I knew what poison it was, I couldn't come up with an antidote in time. I know this is a huge risk, but Mikey will be dead in about ten minutes regardless. We don't have a choice."

Leo's face contorted into a mixture of indecision and agony. He knew what was at stake here. Don was right; Mikey was dying, right in front of them. But could they really trust this mysterious syringe? They had to. He released Don's hand. "I hope you're right."

"Yeah," Don murmured, "I hope so too."

All three brothers held their breath as Don gently pressed the syringe into Mikey's arm.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry to leave it on a bit of a cliffhanger. I wanted to finish it off, but got sort of stuck. But any update is better than no update, right?

I promise the last chapter will be up by Sunday! Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews :)


	6. Chapter 6

**6.**

The first thing he became aware of was the faint scent of cold pizza in the air. _April and Casey promised to bring us back a pie after their date. Hope the microwave isn't on the fritz again. I really not in the mood for cold pizza …_

He went to open his eyes, but the freakin' sun itself was apparently right over top of him, and blinded him. He instinctively reached an arm up to shield his face, and hissed as fire burst from his shoulder. Okay, _bad_ idea. He gently lowered his arm back down, wincing.

"Mikey?" a familiar voice asked softly.

He knew it was one of his brothers, but he couldn't place it. Man, the poison must have screwed with his brain or something. Oh crap, what if he couldn't tell the good comics from the bad ones anymore?

"Hey, Mikey." A hand rested on his uninjured shoulder. Ah, it was definitely Don. So his brain was just a little slower than normal.

"I'm not dead?" he rasped.

His brother chuckled. "Not quite. You did come pretty close, though. I don't suppose you saw a light at the end of a tunnel?"

"Can't say I did. Can you turn the lights down? I'd love to keep my retinas intact."

As the light slowly dimmed, he heard movement somewhere close by. The shuffling of feet across the floor that hadn't been swept in a while—damn, he was supposed to do that, wasn't he? Maybe Leo would cut him some slack.

There was a soft, relieved sigh from somewhere close by. Probably Leo. Raph didn't sigh, like, ever.

"He's awake?" That was Raph. His voice betrayed how tired he must feel.

"Told you it would be sometime today." Don, the scientist and the seer.

"How long was I out?" he asked, finally glancing down the room.

His brothers came into his line of sight. Each one looked exhausted, but calm. Raph still had a touch of annoyance on his face. Well, it wouldn't be Raph if he wasn't slightly pissed off.

"About a day and a half," Don answered. "We almost lost you, bro."

He smiled weakly. "Nah, never. I'm too handsome to die."

None of his brothers smiled. Donny continued. "The fall jarred your spine and dislocated your shoulder. You've probably got a few broken ribs too, but I can't tell for sure."

"I'm sorry." What else could he say?

"Don't be." Leo cut in abruptly. "You did a really good job, Mikey. None of us could have asked for anyone better."

Was he hearing right? He had been ready for a Leo Lecture, scolding him for being reckless with his life. Apparently not. He was to be praised for a good job. Go figure. Maybe he should get poisoned more often.

"Yeah, well. You guys saved me. So we're even." He tried and failed to stifle a yawn. Why was he so tired? He'd barely been awake for ten minutes.

Don smiled. "Your body needs rest, Mikey. God knows it's been through hell and back."

"Yeah …" Mikey's eyelids drooped. "There'd better be cake when I wake up."

The brothers chuckled. "I'll see what I can do," Raph answered as his youngest brother's eyes closed.

Don sighed. "Good. He'll be up in a few days, fine by the end of the month."

"Good call, Donny." Leo placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I was worried there might be some kind of disease in that syringe."

"It was a risk we had to take." Don stumbled. "Whoops. Guess I need some rest, too."

"We all do." Raph yawned and stretched. "I could sleep for a week."

"This family …"

The three brothers whirled around at the weak voice. Mikey's eyes were still closed, but his mouth moved, his words jumbled by the onset of sleep.

"This family … my favourite disease … the way you kill me … heal me …"

A loud snore signalled the end of the strange statement. Leo, Raph and Don glanced at each other, and smiled. It was time for rest and recuperation. Who could tell what tomorrow would bring?

* * *

Sometimes I feel like a monster  
And times I feel like a saint  
I'm on my knees  
You're my favourite disease  
And I love the way you kill me  
Love the way you heal me

- Thousand Foot Krutch

* * *

**A/N:** Well ... it is a Sunday, right?

Sorry for the super long delay. The weekend I was supposed to finish this, I came down with a bad fever. I did end up writing this chapter, but thank heaven I had the presence of mind not to post it. It was a NeoCitran-fuelled disaster.

Also, I took a week off writing anything - fanfiction, original fiction, essays - to mourn the passing of my idol, Brian Jacques. His Redwall series (_Martin the Warrior_ in particular) was what inspired me to write in the first place. So it was a sad, sad day when I found out.


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